


interiôre est precium

by avienexjel



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:31:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4616670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avienexjel/pseuds/avienexjel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Latin for "the inside is the worth".</p><p>Tony flashes a cocky grin at everyone around the table before taking a bite of his chicken and complaining loudly: "This tastes like a fucking piece of trash."  No one says a word as he gets up and empties the entire tray into the nearest garbage can, save for the juice box.</p><p>He only has to get through the rest of this last half of the school year before spending his entire summer in Hell.  Might as well keep up the image the media knows so well but doesn't bother to understand anyway.  At least it annoys that Barnes kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	interiôre est precium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one: money

CHAPTER 1. 

Everyone's talking about Tony at lunchtime: the new boy, charming and smart and hot.  And, of course, no one forgets about the millions of dollars that comes to mind when people hear the name 'Stark'.  But Tony doesn't miss the way other kids, the jealous ones, the ones who disapprove of his flirtatious antics posted all over the media and the way he casually strolls through life like he's superior--which he is, actually; he really is--look at him.  Eyes narrowed, nose crinkled, lips pulled back in a tight, thin line--that's a face Tony's been used to for a long time.  You would, of course, get used to that eventually if that's how your mother looks at you every single day.  Like you're worthless and she's disgusted by you.  Like you're not even her own fucking flesh and blood.  

Some days, Maria Stark won't even LOOK at Tony.  "Take the little shit away!  NOW!" resonates through Tony's mind as the lunch lady dumps a bunch of chicken wings onto his tray (supposedly chicken, although they're all looking a bit purple; but then, he's had worse).  

Even the kids who look at him with awe and respect like he's a god or something makes him feel a little sick.  Sometimes, he wishes he could just collapse all the walls he's been putting up for years now and just sit on the floor and let all his feelings out.  But then again, there's that fucking stupid mantra that he just can't seem to stop repeating to himself:  _Starks don't cry._ And so he doesn't.  Stark may be a shitty name to uphold but he's got to, nevertheless.  

"Hey.  Tony," comes a voice directly in front of him suddenly.

"Mm?"  Tony looks up to see a gorgeous looking guy, with intense, sky blue eyes and very, VERY blonde hair smiling a little nervously at him.  He slowly scans the guy, from head to toe, making sure the kid knows he's checking him out.  "Damn."

"Sorry?" the guy says.  

"You're hotter than Captain America," Tony says, impressed.  He raises an eyebrow and gives a low whistle.  The blonde in front of him begins to turn beet red, which Tony thinks is immensely cute and hilarious. 

"Thanks...," the guy says, pursing his lips.  "I'm Steve.  Steve Rogers."

"Tony Stark," Tony says, giving a crooked smile, knowing full well that the press calls that exact look "stark sexy".  "But you already knew that."

The blush is fading slowly as Tony watches confidence push the nervousness away and slide in to take its place behind Steve's eyes.  "So, I was just thinking...since you're new here, you'd like to come sit with me and my friends?"

Tony is actually at a loss for words.  "Sure," he says finally after gauging Steve's expression.  He seems open, honest...maybe even eager.  He doesn't appear to be someone who only wants to mooch off Tony's wealth.   _'If you buy your friends, you control them,'_  Howard had always told him. 'With _real friends, they'll only hurt you a lot worse in the end.'_ Well, just one lunch won't hurt, Dad, Tony snaps in his head.  At Steve's beckoning gesture, he follows the blonde through the crowd.

"So, that's Bucky," Steve says, pointing to a shaggy-haired guy wearing long sleeves and gloves.  The kid--Bucky--looks at him with thinly veiled suspicion.  "His real name is James, but his friends call him Bucky."

"Yeah, my FRIENDS," Bucky enunciates.  "So either James or Barnes would be appropriate."

Steve chuckles and pushes his friend's dark head gently with his fingers.  Bucky makes a face and bats Steve's hand away.  "Sorry, Bucky's not always like this," Steve apologizes, shooting his best friend a pointed look.

Tony shrugs.  He can tell what's going through James' mind:  _rich kid; thinks he's everything._ If only he knew what Tony's life is really like.  Bitterness pulses through Tony's veins, but he makes sure that his expression is schooled into a blank poker face.  

"That's Clint, and Natasha," Steve says, pointing to two wary looking teens sitting next to each other.  Neither of them bother to smile at him, but the redhead seems to be studying him instead.  Next to be singled out is a nervous-looking kid, wearing both glasses and a troubled, cautious expression.  "That's Bruce."  Last to be introduced is the only guy at the table who's looking at him with an open, welcoming face.  "That's Thor; he's sort of like royalty where he's from--it's a small country in the center of Europe.  So he talks a little bit old-fashioned..."  Here Steve looks at him.  "You don't mind, right?"

"Sure," Tony says offhandedly.  "I don't care."  And, just to annoy the guy named James or Bucky or whatever, he adds: "Besides, he's royalty, right?"  James makes a small, disgruntled noise in the back of his throat.  Tony strains to hide a grin.  

"Hello, friend Anthony!" Thor booms from across the table.  "I have heard many great things about you!"

"It's Tony," Tony says, but lifts a corner of his mouth.  This is the first guy he's met besides Steve who doesn't seem like a complete asshole.  But then...what does that say about him?

"Ah, of course, friend Tony," Thor says, nodding.  "Welcome to our table!"

"Yeah, thanks," Tony says offhandedly.  He flutters his hands.  "Now, someone scoot please so I can actually sit?"  

"There's a spot next to Bruce...," Steve says, looking at the kid with the glasses.

There's a pause, then the kid squeaks out a "Sorry, I'll, uhm, just move over a bit so you can sit down, uh, Tony," and immediately flees down the bench so that Tony has about three people's worth of space.  

"That's about right," Tony says, plopping down with bravado.  James is glaring at him now.  "Something in your eye, Barnes?" Tony asks innocently.  Muttering something--probably obscene, he's guessing--to Steve, James turns away.

Tony flashes a cocky grin at everyone around the table before taking a bite of his chicken and complaining loudly: "This tastes like a fucking piece of trash."  No one says a word as he gets up and empties the entire tray into the nearest garbage can, save for the juice box.

He only has to get through the rest of this last half of the school year before spending his entire summer in Hell.  Might as well keep up the image the media knows so well but doesn't bother to understand anyway.  At least it annoys that Barnes kid.


End file.
